


Hearts and Rainbows

by KhonekoChan



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Rated T for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 11:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12863829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhonekoChan/pseuds/KhonekoChan
Summary: Tweek and Craig had been holding up their fake relationship pretty well these past few years, until Craig sends a text and things get all too real.Craig still sucks at communication.





	Hearts and Rainbows

**Author's Note:**

> Remember the emoji analysis that showed Tweek and Craig sending hearts and rainbows to each other? Well I'm here to bring you the overused creek trope that I can't get enough cuz of that. Age is ambiguous but I had 14 in mind when writing this.

Everything had been going so well.

It was fine; things had really been starting to look up for him. He had cut back on the coffee, his shaking and twitching had leveled in frequency and intensity, and even though his body still depended on caffeine to properly function, overall he would have considered himself quite relaxed compared to a few years ago - which is why he can feel all of that forgotten anxiety wreaking havoc through every nerve in his being.

“No. How could this happen?” His wide eyes scan over the words on the screen of his phone until they blur together and all he can focus on is the punctuation glaring right back at him.

He made the mistake of letting his guard down because he thought he was getting somewhere. He thought that maybe not everyone was out to get him - only most people. He thought he had found someone he could trust and be himself around without fear of everything going wrong, but here it was, mocking him in all its pink glory.

“Tweek, you’re gonna be late for school.” His dad calls from downstairs.

“Gah!” He shouts, dropping his phone in panic before grabbing his bag and running out the door.

-

Craig sighs, slamming his locker shut a bit harder than he meant to, causing the thundering chatter vibrating through the halls to stutter before picking back up after realizing there wasn’t anything interesting going on.

He hadn’t seen or heard from Tweek since early this morning and it was already lunch. Considering their only class together was later in the day, most people probably found it completely acceptable to not be in each other’s space every second of the day, but a simple text or a quick hug between classes would be nice. And yet there was no sign of that frazzled blond mop anywhere.

“Craig! Get your goddamn jittery boyfriend under control!”

The loud, obnoxious bellow belonging to none other than Eric Cartman assaults his eardrums as Eric stomps his way toward him, a mortified Heidi Turner shuffling behind him and chanting apologies to alarmed students littering the hall.

“Can I help you?” Craig eyes the huge stain of mashed potatoes and gravy dripping down the front of Eric’s jacket, along with what he assumed to be chocolate milk.

Eric jabs a chubby finger at Craig. “Your spazzy boyfriend ran into me and caused me to spill my food everywhere. I want some compensation and I want it now!” He crosses his arms over his chest, effectively smearing the mess on his clothes.

Heidi places her hands on his back in an attempt to steer him away. “Eric, I don’t think you should-”

“Can it, Heidi. This is business between men.” He snaps, narrowing his eyes at Craig as he waits for a response.

Slumping her shoulders, Heidi looks down to the floor in some show of submissiveness. Craig feels sorry for her, he really does. She’s way out of Eric’s league and deserves better, but Craig’s got enough problems of his own to be fretting over somebody else’s relationship, so he settles this as quickly as possible since he now knows Tweek is in the building. “Okay, here’s the deal – take it or leave it.” Craig reaches into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, pulling out an appropriate amount of bills and offering them to Eric. “Take this for lunch, and if you want, I’ll even clean your jacket.”

Eric snatches the money from Craig’s hand, flipping through the bills as if making sure he wasn’t getting ripped off during a drug deal before stuffing it in his pocket. “I told you it’d work, Heidi. Craig’s a little bitch when it comes to Tweek.” Eric chuckles while sliding off his soiled jacket and presenting it to Craig.

Rather than fighting with his lock and reopening his locker, Craig haphazardly shoves the garment into his backpack, not really caring if it stains any of his paper or books. “I like to see it as, unlike some people,” he stresses the word ‘some’ with a little more intonation than his usual monotonous drawl, “I actually give a damn about my significant other and I’m not with them for my own selfish reasons.” He zips up his bag and shoulders Eric out of his way toward the cafeteria.

“Eric?” Heidi says, sounding concerned.

“Psh, don’t worry about that. Craig just likes to make sure no one forgets how gay he is.” 

 

The cafeteria is bustling with overlapping gossip that falls silent on Craig’s ears as he scopes the room. Most cliques have their designated tables where they group up every day without fail. Some students would switch it up a bit and sit with a new group occasionally like how Jimmy, Token, or Clyde will sometimes join Stan and those assholes while Tweek and Craig preferred to keep away from that bunch as much as possible, lest either of them ended up in one of their fucked up adventures again.

And Craig already knew if Tweek were in here he’d be in one of the booths lined up along the far side of the cafeteria, next to the large windows overlooking the parking lot. Craig spots him, that wild blond mop reflecting the sunlight enough to blind a man as his shoulders twitch, the way they used to in elementary school.

Something is definitely wrong.

With Tweek’s back to him, he unintentionally creeps up with a blunt “Tweek,” starling him with a yelp that has heads turning their way, only to disappointingly turn back after realizing it was just the school spazz.

“Jesus, Craig.” Tweek tugs at his shirt with one hand while his other reaches for the Styrofoam cup of school-grade coffee. Unmedicated, of course.

“Sorry.” Craig slides into the booth next to Tweek, dropping his backpack on the floor. He watches Tweek’s adams apple bob as he gulps down a good portion of his caffeine.

Neither of them makes the effort to speak for an undetermined amount of time. What felt like minutes were actually seconds as Craig watches Tweek twitch and jerk with the occasional grunt of distress. He’s much worse than usual, further confirming Craig’s suspicions that something was up.

“You didn’t text me back.” Craig says, breaking the ice.

“I don’t have my phone.” Tween shoots back almost immediately in his too-fast way of speaking when his panic is on the rise. Sort of like he knew exactly what Craig would say.

Tweek’s response came so fast, Craig was left momentarily speechless as he thought about how he should steer this conversation. Tweek knew this was coming, he could see it in the way he refused to look at him – only giving him side-eyed glances before pointedly returning to his cup. “Why?” was all Craig managed to say.

“I was running late. I dropped it.” Another swift answer that lingers between them until Tweek clarifies his ambiguous explanation. “At home – nng – I dropped it at home. I didn’t lose it or anything.”

“Oh, okay.” Craig says, letting them succumb to silence once again. He stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets for lack of anything better to do with them. With Tweek like this he knew any sort of contact would send him running from the pressure. Baby steps.

Tweek continues to fidget. Having long since finished his coffee, he occupies himself by tugging at his shirt and twisting fingers in his hair. Craig hadn’t seen him this bad since grade school and it sent a pang of doubt through his chest. He was never any good at talking – that’s what Tweek was for – but since he wasn’t making a move anytime soon, Craig was left to awkwardly mull over what could have possibly caused Tweek to relapse.

“I’m going to the nurse.” Tweek stands just as fast as he had spoken, rattling the table with a bump of his thighs.

“What? Why? I’ll come with you.”

“No! I mean – gah – it’s just a scratch. I fell off my bike. I’ll be fine.” Tweek is already taking long strides away from Craig, stopping only to tell him he’ll see him in class before disappearing from the room.

Craig slumps in his seat, unable to focus on anything but the tipped over cup on the table.

Tweek didn’t show up to class that afternoon.

-

He needs to apologize.

Fighting with the lock anchoring his bike to the rack, Tweek grumbles and shudders at the very real possibility that Craig probably hates him now. The metal clinks together as he imagines Craig scowling at him, clicking his tongue in annoyance as he turns away, leaving Tweek without a word. His hands are shaking as he tries to insert the key and after a particularly violent jerk, he growls – frustrated – and pulls at his hair.

“Stupid bike!” He throws the key to the ground and shrinks into himself, head between his knees and fingers curling into his unruly mess of hair. “I can’t take it.” He mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut at the threat of tears. Can’t this day just be over with already? He’d rather deal with the underpants gnomes than this war of emotions.

A loud scrape of sneakers against the concrete nearly causes Tweek to topple over, soliciting a frightened shout as he raises his arm in front of his face in an attempt at self defense. When nothing happens after a long pause, he opens his eyes to a familiar shade of blue – the one he’s been avoiding all day.

“Craig?” Slips past his lips before he can stop himself, but at the moment, Tweek’s not really sure he’d want to keep silent right now. Not when the object of both his anxiety and affection was right here with him again. He’s had plenty of time to himself to panic – he couldn’t decide whether the lunch room incident made it worse or helped him come to his senses – and right now was his chance to get everything out.

It would either be the end of everything he had grown to find solace in or the beginning of something genuine. Something the two of them could mutually share together. It was a risk he had to take.

“I saw you struggling.” Craig said after removing the lock from Tweek’s bike. He stands up, offering a hand to Tweek to help him up.

Until now, Tweek really hadn’t noticed just how much Craig towered over him. His height should be intimidating – he had nearly a foot on Tweek – but the way he looked down at him wasn’t patronizing in the least. To Tweek, he seemed to be looking at him with hopeful forlorn – like he wanted Tweek to accept him but wouldn’t be surprised if he got up and started sprinting away. He reaches out, placing his hand into Craig’s, and pushes off the ground with the other while Craig pulls him up.

The combined force from both of them catapults Tweek into Craig’s chest, muffling a yelp from Tweek as he grabs onto the front of Craig’s jacket. Neither of them moves, whether from shock or wanting to savor the moment, Tweek doesn’t know. What he does know is the familiar scent of Craig surrounding him is comforting. Intimate even. He looks up, into the same eyes that probably never left him through their little overshot and says, “Come home with me.”

Shit. He fucked up. That sounded way too demanding. He knows Craig doesn’t react well to being told what to do. Fuck, why couldn’t he do anything right? He can feel the anxiety shuddering through his body, making him feel too hot even in the cold Colorado air. His fingers clench into the fabric between them. He needs to let go – to forget anything even happened – but it’s like something is holding him down and he can’t figure out what it is. Oh god.

“Okay.”

“Nnh - what?” Tweek relaxes, and realizes the pressure keeping him from backing away was Craig’s arm around him. It wasn’t a tight hold, and Tweek briefly wonders if he even really tried to get away at all.

“I’ll come home with you.” Craig says, squeezing Tweek’s hand - the one he helped him up with.

Tweek was aware of the intimacy in the moment; you didn’t just fall into someone’s chest while they held you and stared into your eyes for that long and it not be inherently romantic, especially from and outsider’s perspective.

Which is why Tweek finally pushed away from Craig after hearing whispered giggles from some girls walking by them and looking back with piqued curiosity. He fumbles with his bike, pulling it from the rack and rolling it toward Craig. “You can ride it if you want. Agh - I mean - Jesus! That came out wrong.” Tweek stuttered and pulled at his shirt, so hard he was sure a button would pop.

“Tweek.” Craig interrupts his nervous babbling, placing a hand over his own shaking one curled tightly around the handle bar. “Let’s walk.”

-

Tweek’s house is within view, and the only sounds between them are the clicking of a chain and whirring of tires against the concrete. Craig’s hands itch in his pockets, wanting to hold onto something, preferably something pertaining to Tweek, but the bike between them and the underlying tension of what exactly caused Tweek to avoid him all day keeps him from doing so.

It really fucking sucks.

 

The house smells like coffee - sunset blend, their most popular - and stale pastries, leftovers from the shop after closing. Craig leaves his bag by the door; Tweek drops his on the couch before facing Craig. He’s trembling, fingers of one hand clenching into his shirt.

“My parents are still at the shop - ngh - and I have to make cupcakes for tomorrow.” Craig already knew this. Since Tweek’s father remodeled the Harbucks to serve pastries, he’s been putting his son’s baking skills to use, much to Craig’s irritation. He hasn’t heard a single complaint from Tweek yet so he doesn’t really have an argument but still, the least his dad could do was pay him.

“I’ll help.” He offers, receiving a small, hesitant smile from Tweek.

Once in the kitchen, Tweek hands him a pan and cupcake liners, directing him to line the pan while he got the rest of the tools and ingredients. Watching Tweek run around in his little white apron and his mop of blond hair pulled back with clips was satisfyingly endearing. Sure he’s seen him like this many times before, but after witnessing him regress into that crippling anxious mess he used to be when he was 10 and watching him calm back down once he started baking was bittersweet. Craig wanted to kiss the tension out of him.

There was still the matter at hand that needed to be discussed and he figured it was now or never.

“Tweek.” He starts, dropping the last obnoxiously pink liner into the pan. “Why did you avoid me all day?”

Tweek dumps the flour and baking powder into his mixing bowl a little too hard, creating a puff of white that lightly dusts his face. After sprinkling in some salt, he pushes that bowl away and grabs another bowl and cupcake pan. He sets the pan in front of Craig then stops, avoiding eye contact. He breathes in, slow and shaky before saying, “This is real to me.”

Silence. Craig doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what he means. He glances around the kitchen, from the table to the fridge until he gets back to Tweek. “What’s real?” He asks, genuinely concerned over Tweek’s state of existential perception since he still insists he can see underpants gnomes.

Tweek faces him, settling into his nervous habit of pulling at his shirt. His eyes are wide, pupils merely pinpoints of black surrounded by rings of hazel full of fear, like he’s about to do something he shouldn’t. “Nng - my feelings for you are real.” His confession is wobbly. “I don’t know when I stopped pretending or if I even pretended at all. I - agh - I don’t know!” His voice levels out as he continues, wrenching fingers in his hair, tugging the clips out of place allowing thin strands to fall over his forehead. “It’s all blurred together, but this morning when you sent that text with the heart - I just - I freaked out and didn’t know what to do.” He pauses, sucking in a deep breath, calming himself to finish. “I didn’t want to say something and give it away without knowing if you felt the same way, but I couldn’t handle not knowing anything at all. One of us would crack eventually, I just didn’t want it to be me because I’d blow it way out of proportion.” He nervously laughs. “And - ngh - that’s exactly what I did.”

Shit. No - okay - Tweek did take it a bit too far, but Craig knows it’s his fault. Instead of talking it out, they let this go on for way too long. It was only a matter of time that a relationship forced together for the town to properly function would implode, especially without communication - Craig’s fucking kryptonite. “It’s my fault you feel that way.” He starts, piecing together what he wants to say. “The truth is, I do feel the same way Tweek. I don’t know when it started for me either, but think about it - how often do you see people gawking at us in awe for holding hands, or telling us how amazing we are for being South Park’s first gay kids?” He throws his arms out as if this should be obvious, but in reality he’s just now coming to terms with it himself. “Your dad hasn’t been using your apparent sexuality to promote his business and my dad hasn’t been obsessively collecting yaoi of us - no one gives a shit whether we’re together or not anymore Tweek.” He stops, winded, realizing he’d raised his voice. Without thinking, he grabs Tweek’s arm only for him to jerk away like he’d been burned.

Well, he fucked up.

“No - Craig, I - nng it’s from where I fell.” His face must have given everything away as Tweek quickly explains why he’d moved.

Craig remembers Tweek running off to the nurse earlier. “Right, off your bike.” He adds. “I’m sorry, Can I see it?”

Tweek nods and hesitantly holds out his arm. Craig grabs his wrist, careful not to hurt him while he slides the sleeve up to his elbow, revealing the bandages wrapped around it. “I landed on it so it got scraped up pretty bad. I - hnng - used up all my tissues before I went to the nurse, but I also used it as an excuse to get away from you. I’m sorry, Craig.”

Without a word, Craig pulls Tweek towards him, bringing his arm up to his face. “If I were faking, would I do this?” He presses a soft kiss to the bandages, watching how Tweek would react.

There’s no protest, just eyebrows pursed in guarded anticipation. So he continues.

Craig steps forward, right into Tweek’s personal space, and places his free hand on a powdery cheek. Leaning in, Craig kisses the pink skin under Tweek’s eye, tasting the flour on his lips when he pulls away. “Or that?”

Tweek closes his eyes, clenching his fingers into Craig’s jacket, waiting.

Craig guides Tweek’s arm around his neck, then cups his face with both hands. He can feel him trembling, but it’s not his usual anxiety-induced jitters, this is something else - the kind of nervousness a person usually feels from a new intimate touch.

Their warm breath mingles across each other’s skin as Craig tries to recall how they do it in the movies before thinking ‘fuck it’ and just mashing his mouth onto Tweek’s, too hard and tight lipped. His braces dug into his skin, but he refused to stop, not until he got this right - or until Tweek back away, which he really hoped he wouldn’t do.

Maybe Tweek was more relaxed about this than he was. His heart was pounding in his chest as lithe fingers snuck under his knit chullo, running through short, black hair. Those same fingers stop just behind his ear, a light pressure urging him to tilt his head until they fit together seamlessly.

And after what felt like eons ending tragically quick, they pulled apart - though still holding each other close - with matching blushes brightening their cheeks.

Tweek laughs, a soothing sound that Craig would give anything to hear again. “We’re complete idiots.”

“Yeah well, can’t really expect much from South Park residents.” Craig says with a playful roll of his eyes and accompanying smirk, prompting another chuckle from Tweek. “If I’m being honest, right before we got together, it almost felt like I’d been hit with Cupid’s arrow.”

Tweek sighs. “Really? You make fun of me for underpants gnomes but believe in a miniature person who makes people fall in love by shooting them in the ass?” His amusement is evident from a quirk of his brow.

“Hey, I didn’t say I believed in him.” Craig refutes, squeezing Tweek in his arms.

“Ng – that’s the cheesiest fucking thing you’ve ever said.” Tweek laughs before wrenching himself out of Craig’s grip. “But we have cupcakes to make so get to work before I tell all our friends – including Cartman.”

Craig slumps his shoulders. “Ugh, that reminds me. Mind if I borrow your washer later?”

-

The next morning, Tweek grabs his phone off his nightstand to shut off the alarm, tapping out a quick wake-up text to Craig punctuated with a heart.

Craig replies back with a rainbow ‘cuz we’re super duper triple-dog gay.’

Tweek jumps out of bed with a wide grin, pulling on his clothes a fast as he could, and if he messed up his buttons more so than usual that was the last thing on his mind as he ran out the door and took off on his bike.

At school, Eric marches up to Tweek and Craig shamelessly standing too close to each other with arms thrown around shoulders and waists and snatches his freshly cleaned jacket from Craig while screaming something about getting their gay germs all over it. 

Craig just flipps him the bird with a monotonous “fuck off, fatass” and a spiteful peck to Tweek’s forehead which did not settle well with Eric. In a very Eric Cartman fashion, he make a show of his offense by stomping back to an apologetic Heidi while not so subtly mumbling how much he “fucking hates Craig.”

“We fucking hate you, too!” Tweek yells back, looking like a cat that ate the canary.

Craig rolls his cheek into Tweek’s hair. “Damn, babe, you’re a fucking savage. I love it.”

“Yeah!” Tweek pumps his fist and gives Craig the biggest smile he can muster before being swept up in a heartfelt kiss. At first, he wants to push Craig away - to finger-wag him about such blatant displays of affection when there are students and teachers surrounding them at every turn - until he remembers what Craig said about no one giving a shit about them anymore.

And he was right. As Tweek kisses back, arms around Craig like he’d lose him forever if he let go, no one batted an eye at them. No one awed at how cute they were or pulled them apart to give them unwarranted lectures about consent - no one gave a damn about them anymore and they could do what they wanted, and they chose to stay together on their own this time.

“You just looked so cute. I couldn’t help myself.” Craig said when they pulled away, nuzzling Tweek’s hair.

Tweek leaned into Craig, reaching for his hand when the bell for first period rang. “Nn - you can kiss me whenever you want.”

“Heh. Might wanna watch what you say. We have a lot of time to make up for.” Craig teases with a suggestive smirk.

Tweek scoffs and playfully pushes Craig’s shoulder, but when they make their way to Tweek’s class - after arguing about who would walk who, they decide to take turns - he wore a telling smile of content.

And he’d make sure to send Craig so many hearts and rainbows he’d be sick of them by next week.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Join me on [Tumblr!](http://www.pinkpiscean.tumblr.com) I'd love to have creek friends, or south park friends in general :D


End file.
